A/N: This story is completely finished, I'll update every other day. Feedback is greatly appreciated!
Chapter Three
"Kurt," a soft voice called to him. He felt someone nudge his shoulder. "Kurt." His faded blue eyes slid open and he looked up at Nurse Nancy. "Honey, you need to go home. Visitation ended hours ago. You shouldn't be here."
He groaned and shook his head in attempt to clear some of the sleep. "I...I can't go home," he whispered, rubbing his hands over his face and grimacing at the feel of a little stubble on his chin. He needed to shave. He remembered his dad poking fun at him the first time Kurt had admitted to needing a razor. "Son," he'd said, "There are some things even you can't avoid."
"are you staying with anyone?" Nancy asked, snapping him out of his reprieve.
Kurt looked at her. He'd rather stay at his house than be pitied at someone else's. "I can go home, thanks." He paused, realizing he wasn't exactly sure how to get home. His father had been brought in by ambulance, and his baby was still at school. "What time are visiting hours?"
Nancy felt sad that she'd asked this poor kid to get out suddenly. "7-to-10, but you're cute so you can probably get away with 6-to-midnight. Just don't spread the word, okay?"
Kurt smiled. "You'll call if..." His voice trailed off not wanting to think such things.
"Yes, Kurt. We'll contact you if anything changes. Absolutely. You need to take care of yourself too. When he wakes up, he's not going to be healthy in a day. He's got a long road and he's going to need you."
"I know, I'm fine."
She didn't believe him, but she smiled. "I can call a taxi if you'd like. I'll even pay—"
"You don't—"
"It's fine. Do you have a car at home?"
"No, but my friend Finn can come get me tomorrow morning."
She studied him hard for a moment. "Kurt, are you sure there isn't anyone I can contact for you?"
He forced a smile, "My grandmother is already on her way. Please don't worry. I'll be fine. I have friends." He didn't add that none of them were overly helpful, or that he wouldn't call them out of fear of being rejected.
"All right," she didn't look like she believed him, but gave him the benefit of the doubt all the same. "I'll call you a cab. I'm paying and don't argue."
Kurt sighed as he looked at his father. He hadn't eaten since breakfast. He was exhausted and scared, but he couldn't fathom hunger right now. He was struggling to keep it together. He was tired, but every time he fell asleep he felt the hinges coming undone, ultimately leading him to nightmares.
He gripped his father's hand and looked at the man. "I have to go, Dad, but I'll be back tomorrow...Promise me you won't do anything stupid?" he questioned. He wasn't an idiot. He knew his father wouldn't answer, but the ever looming silence in the room made him feel uneasy.
Leaning over he pressed a kiss to his father's forehead. "Just...Don't let Mom lure you away with her gorgeousness, okay?" With a hint of a smile he walked out of the room where Nancy met and walked him down to the taxi waiting at the front entrance.
When Kurt arrived home he looked at the house and felt his stomach curl slightly, "Thanks." The nurse had paid as promised despite his arguing. He stepped out into the cool night and moved towards the door. He fished his keys out of his pocket and stuck it into the hole. With a twist he pushed the door open and felt as if his world was collapsing. It was pitch black and empty. Until this moment he hadn't really thought about how empty it was going to be. He'd just automatically assumed he'd be at home and everything would be like normal. But the problem was that this house was meant for more than one seventeen-year-old boy. He flicked the light switch from the entrance way, but the light didn't come on. Kurt sighed. His father had said he'd change the damn thing.
Stepping into the kitchen, Kurt opened one of the cabinets and pulled out a new light bulb. He grabbed a chair, stepped up on it and began to unscrew the other light. He then screwed the new one in and felt a little better as the entrance way was illuminated. He got down from the chair and carried it back into the kitchen dining room. He opened the fridge and felt his stomach curdle at the idea of food. Instead he simply closed the door and headed into the living room, overwhelmed by the familiar smell of grease and the cologne his father used.
Kurt closed his eyes. The shakes were back. He didn't want to be downstairs. He didn't think he'd sleep anyway. Instead he headed upstairs and looked at the bed. If the living room had smelled of his father, his father's bedroom was even worse; it smelled of his mom and his dad. Feeling the pain well in his chest, it was almost suffocating as he opened up the drawers just enough to release the smell of her perfume, but not enough to air them out. He kicked off his shoes and slid under the covers, pressing his face into his father's pillow. Sleep never came, but the tears did.
Sleep was something that those who didn't have nightmares did regularly. For Kurt, he'd always had a few more nightmares than the average person, even as a little boy. He could remember running to hide in his parent's bed during an especially bad one.
He hadn't slept at all that night. Instead he remained awake thinking, crying and hating how messed up his life kept getting. He skipped breakfast the next morning and told Carole he had a ride to school. He proceeded to walk to the school, not wanting to be an inconvenience to her.
Upon arriving, it was like no one knew. The jocks took immense joy in tossing him in the dumpster when no one was looking. Kurt lay there for a long moment, amidst the trash and closed his eyes, trying not to breath in the stench of rotted garbage. Tears burned his eyes. He wanted to blame it on the smell but couldn't because he'd never felt this upset over a dumpster toss. He was beginning to feel he belonged in here.
Several minutes later he pulled himself out—startled when a slushy immediately hit his face. He wiped the ice from his eyes and looked up to see Karofsky and Azimio grinning like morons at him. "Sorry, freak. Gotta catch up for yesterday!" they laughed.
Closing his eyes, Kurt walked away as quickly as he could. He headed into the bathroom and scrubbed up as best he could. He spent the remainder of his day not eating and desperately trying to stay awake. Every time he tried to focus on school his mind traveled back to the figure lying in the hospital bed: his father, the only person left in his whole world. Kurt wasn't sure how he was keeping sane at this point, but truth was he felt like he was only seconds away from losing it.
"Kurt, where were you after school yesterday? I thought we were going to the movies," Mercedes asked when they met up for lunch. Kurt froze in horror. There had been rumors all day that he'd done something bad, that he'd brought a gun to school or something equally as stupid and Neanderthal. Kurt looked at her, forcing back a wave of tears at the sheer thought of sharing this information. "My father..." He stopped. "I uh..." He looked around feeling dizzy and sick. He closed his eyes, and suddenly he was running to the girl's bathroom. He ran past various girls and heaved into the nearest toilet bowl, except nothing came up because it had been long over twenty-four hours since he'd eaten. He shivered as the door to his stall opened slightly to reveal Mercedes, Quinn and Tina.
"You look sick," Tina said handing him a damp paper towel.
"Promise me what I'm about to tell you doesn't leave here...I can't have Jacob Tweeting this," he murmured as he headed to the sink and quickly scrubbed at his face with his hands.
"Promise," the three girls chimed.
He looked at them, his three closest girlfriends. "My dad...had a heart attack yesterday afternoon."
"Oh god," Mercedes gasped while the other two whitened. "Is he...?"
"He's in a coma. They...they don't know if he'll make it." He forced down the thickness that had collected in his throat. He wouldn't cry. He was tired of feeling weak.
"Oh my God, Kurt are you all right?" It was an absurd question for Mercedes to ask. He was fine. It was his father. Hadn't she heard him? Yet even at those words he felt a small cackle fall from his lips. Perhaps it was bitterness, but he realized how wrong those words seemed directed at him.
"I'll be fine," he lied. He would always be fine. And just like that he forced a smile and stepped out of the bathroom, heading towards his locker paying no mind to the girls he'd just left behind.
Several hours later, Kurt closed his locker door and headed towards glee, knowing he'd be the first in the room, but he needed a few moments to himself. He hadn't been sitting there for very long when the other students began to file in. Brittany and Santana stepped up to him, offering him an odd book report about heart attacks.
"What the hell happened!" Finn demanded as he strode inside.
Kurt blanched. How dare Finn even think for a single moment he had the right to feel hurt. "My dad's in the hospital." Exhaustion filled his voice.
When Finn snapped that he'd only just heard, Kurt felt like someone had just slapped him. "Well, I'm sorry Finn. It didn't occur to me to call you because he's not your father!" he shouted, closing his eyes as another wave of dizziness hit him. He sighed heavily. He was struggling as it was and he didn't need Finn adding more guilt to the list of emotions.
"Look, I'm sorry. It's just he's the closest thing I have to a father, and I know it may not look like what everyone else has, but I thought we had a family."
Kurt stared at him for a minute, hating Finn for yet again making everything about him, but he removed his satchel from the seat beside him, allowing Finn to sit. He could understand Finn's plea. It was simple enough. Finn didn't have a father so he felt like he had to borrow Kurt's. It was only fair. Kurt knew he had the best father in the world, the way the man handled everything in stride. It didn't make it right, but it did make it easier to accept Finn's justification.
Mr. Schuster stepped into the room and began to explain everything that had been going on recently. Kurt watched as Finn tried to reach out and pat his shoulder, but Kurt shook his finger at him. He wouldn't break down now. He couldn't and he wouldn't let Finn be the one to cause it.
When Mercedes offered to sing to him, he was mildly surprised to find it was a religious song. How could she ever think he'd be okay with such a thing? He closed his eyes and shook his head in anger, he could barely remember a time when he'd ever remembered believing in a god.
Kurt became lost in his thoughts as Mercedes sang. He remembered his mother's funeral and his determination not to go because he didn't believe in God. At that time his belief had been a basic one, God had taken mommy away so god couldn't exist. Now it was more complex, it was thus easier to not believe than to blame his anger on anyone. He was brought out of his thoughts as Mercedes finished her song. They all wanted to offer him their prayers, but were stunned at his explosion against religion, but he had a rough time believing in a God who'd created him gay, then ridiculed him every day for it, and to make everything worse had stolen his sister, mother and possibly now his father. It was easier to not have anyone to blame than to have a God he only blamed when he was upset.
He stepped out of the room and leaned his back against the wall, head pressed to the cool stone and sighed. Kurt couldn't believe in someone like God. That would mean that he wasn't in control, and Kurt hated lack of control. Closing his eyes against another wave of burning tears, he fished his keys out of his satchel and headed out to his SUV, deciding he'd pass on glee today. He headed out to the parking lot, unaware that Puck had followed him.
"Hummel?" Kurt closed his eyes to the voice of his used to be tormentor. He could remember a time when they'd been friends. It had been back when he was Noah, before Puck ever came to be—when they were just little kids playing on the monkey bars. That's how he'd first met the mohawked boy. He'd fallen off the bars and on top of Noah.
What surprised him the most was that his current friends weren't the ones jumping to his aid...or at least not the aid he wanted. Rather it was those friends Kurt had assumed were long since lost. "Come to convert me to the Jewish way."
"Nah, why would you believe in God? You always walk around assuming you are one."
Kurt's eyes narrowed on Puck. "Why are you out here then? Joining your jocks in trash talking and dumpster diving?"
"You know if you're just gonna snap, I can go find another queen to throw around."
"Great, here come the fag jokes!"
"Hey!" Puck snapped, "I'm the one standing here, not anyone else. I may be an asshole, but I'm not about to kick a man when he's down."
"That's right, this from the guy who takes pleasure in tossing the weaker around and throwing pee balloons at people!"
Puck's eyes became darker "Maybe I just want to check and see if you're all right? I don't see anyone else making the same effort."
That stung because Kurt knew Puck was right. "Why you then? You're not exactly a giving guy. In fact you generally only take an interest if there's something in it for you, and trust me Puckerman, I'm not some girl who will throw myself at you. So no need to go all charity on me."
"It ain't charity. I doubt that Finn's smart enough to realize that you're all alone—"
"I'm not alone." Kurt cut him off, but the look in those brown eyes told him that Puck knew otherwise.
"Really, who's staying at the house with you?" The boy looked at him seriously. "Come on dude, I know we've had...our share of problems and I know I've made the past several years hell for you...but we used to be buds."
"No, Noah and I used to be friends. Puck and I haven't ever been friends. I hate Puck," Kurt answered honestly as he began to walk away. Puck reached out and grabbed the smaller teen. The glare that he received for it was withering. "Look, Hummel—"
"Why are you doing this? I'm already inches from losing everything, and now you're going to mock me with the only good thing I had after my mother's death."
Puck nodded, "Fair 'nough. I fucked up. I'll talk to Finn and the others to back off you if I can, but...seriously dude, I still have the same house number I had as a kid and you're still welcome to call it."
"Suddenly Puckerman has a kid and goes soft."
Puck smirked. "I'm still a studzilla."
"And delusional. Really, I'm fine. Now you might want to stop talking to me before the jocks come get you."
Puck nodded. "Okay, see you later, Hummel," he offered, but as he watched Kurt walk away, he knew better. While Kurt may not want to admit he was hurting, Puck saw the pain in his eyes.
Kurt walked away, gripping his books close to his chest. Puck's concern had been unexpected and it made Kurt nervous. He'd been friends with Noah, but that had been a long time ago. He wasn't sure he could handle all this ending with another lost friendship. He wasn't willing to be tossed out like someone's trash again.